Hard to Get
by Many Impossible Things
Summary: "All the joking was out of his tone when he broke the heavy silence she'd let fall, 'Why do you keep coming, Romanoff? Why do you come here? Why aren't you more pissed that he's playing hard to get'" Post-Age of Ultron
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everybody! So, apparently there's nothing like the Avengers to get me writing one-shots. :D I own nothing, etc, etc. Thanks so much for reading, drop a review if the desire takes you, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

It was faster to fly.

By almost three hours it was faster to fly, especially when it came to New York City traffic, but the drive did her good. How precisely she wasn't sure, but the time alone just driving down dark roads by herself with nothing to listen to but the hum of the engine was nice. It was a small island of quiet. Quiet she actually liked. Silence was terrifying because it wasn't natural. That kind of quiet Natasha liked.

In the past weeks she'd taken to liberating Cap's motorcycle for these jaunts but given the rainclouds overhead, she'd opted for one of the unassuming black vehicles in the garage, ignoring any agents that looked at her strangely for not having filed for permission to take it earlier. When it came to such things, she was glad SHIELD wasn't entirely SHIELD anymore. Less paperwork.

Steve had found her on her way out, as he always did. She had the strong suspicion that either Scarlet or Body Double Jarvis was keeping tabs on her for him. Telepathic stuff she still wasn't entirely caught up on, but at that point she was a bit afraid to ask. She'd seen up close what regular old psychological mind-fucking could do. She wasn't in a hurry to experience the enhanced versions yet.

Without breaking stride, she'd glanced at her friend with a smirk she didn't have any real emotion behind and promised preemptively, "Don't worry. I'll be back. You won't have to babysit all on your own."

"You know, I've never actually asked if you wouldn't." Frowning behind her red hair, she'd looked up at him questioningly before he added, "I know you're coming back. It's just…I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. This is what I know. This is where I feel…at home. The training and the teams and the structure. It makes me feel a little less adrift in an ocean I'm seventy years too old for. But this isn't you, I know that. So…if you didn't, I'd understand. If you wanted something else. Nat, _this_ isn't what you have to do for the rest of your life. _Any_ of this. You're not the Black Widow. You're Nat, you know?"

Blinking with an unpleasant itching in the corners of her eyes, she'd just given him softer smirk that wasn't so flat, "I'll be back, Steve."

Her first stop was usually Clint's house, checking in on her niece and two nephews, on her best friend and the woman who kept him sane. It wasn't that far out of the way, only a couple extra hours of solitude she relished, but with the little one old enough to travel a bit they were visiting Laura's family.

She was welcome to stay there whenever she needed whether they were home or not—bar unpleasant people following her there—and she knew that, but her brain was too wired this time. Not to mention that sitting in Clint's house without him there to talk her through some of her issues was just going to remind her of what he had that she couldn't and that…it hurt now. Goddammit, sometimes it hurt so much.

Not to mention they'd just be having the same conversation they'd been having for months if he had been there. It would be embarrassingly heartfelt and rather green in color.

Clint had been slow on the uptake, but once the man had something in his sights he didn't lose it quickly.

So New York was the only stop on her list and it grew out of the rainy, light-polluted horizon before she'd properly gotten her brain to quiet. Stark Tower was as gleaming and glittering to the world as always, even in the heavy autumn rain. Using Tony's personal credentials he didn't know she'd taken to park and then get upstairs to the labs, Natasha was relieved to find the building quiet for the most part.

The upper lights being on signified that at least Tony if not both he and Pepper were in that night, but she didn't feel the need to bother them. That and the rather more selfish reason of being borderline embarrassed of the real reason she was there.

Sentimental in his own strange ways, Tony hadn't so much as touched Bruce's room or his portion of the lab in the time he'd been gone. His desk was still littered with his pens and tools and little notes in his scrawled handwriting just the way he'd left it. There was still a tiny stack of clothes that had been shoved beneath his bed that he hadn't gotten around to washing. And, she hated herself a little for knowing, but his pillow and sheets still smelled like him. Without any concrete elements to describe it, she internally just labeled it as dork. Adorable dork.

For reasons she as of yet didn't understand—mostly because she'd devoutly avoided trying to—she'd been different since Ultron. Bouts of emotion and the self-loathing she'd been effectively burying for years surged up and refused to be put back into the small, frozen box in her chest where they belonged. Ever since Scarlet had gotten in there and fucked things up, they hadn't gone back to normal.

The dream that she'd had hadn't left and in her mind she scoffed at calling it that. Dream made it sound so whimsical and fictional for things that had actually happened, for a life that she'd lived through.

This was where she'd found herself coming when the dream became too real, when it demanded to not be ignored, when it insisted on rubbing its truth in her face no matter how much closer to zero she'd tried to get her ledger. She'd long ago given up trying to get it into the black. If there was one person in the world that would keep her in the red it was herself. No matter how far she came or how many people she had that loved her and that she loved back—for all the world saving she'd done, she counted that the bigger miracle—she was never going to get out of the hole.

For a little bit, she'd had some company in there and it had made her think maybe she could just claw her way out, but her pit was a lonely one again. She'd wait, though. She was patient and she was broken. There was nothing pushing her to find new company… Plus, it wasn't exactly like her biological clock was ticking or anything.

Walking into the lab and toward Bruce's computer, she pulled off her coat and settled into his chair with familiar ease. She was there three days a week almost, working on their missing persons cases, or so she told herself and the others. Everything was familiar and as the lamp behind the monitor automatically clicked on given its motion sensors detecting her presence, she felt some of the dream start to fade.

Pulling one of his pens out from a coffee cup—he'd never drank coffee that she'd ever seen—she grabbed the pen and paper from the top drawer of the desk to take notes. There was something comforting about the old school way of doing things when urgency wasn't paramount and from the pages of equations and scribbles on the pages before the first blank one, she knew he'd felt the same way.

Booting effortlessly and immediately, the computer came to life before her and Natasha was greeted by the new feminine voice she had yet to get used to.

"Good evening, Miss Romanoff. Working on the usual?"

Not looking up because she knew the voice didn't come from an actual source that could be looked at in the eyes, she nodded, "Yeah, Friday. The usual. I'll call if I need you?"

"Of course. Shall I play the music, too?"

"Yes, please. Thanks, Friday."

As the operatic talents of some woman that Natasha had probably heard of but couldn't name by voice filled the room and her ears, she was incredibly thankful that Tony had made his programs thoughtful and a bit sarcastic rather than curious. Friday never asked questions that needed more than a yes or a no. And, though probably having some sort of ability to do so by scanning her heart rate or blood pressure or something, she never commented on her mood. Instead, she just put on _Carmen_ because it was her favorite.

In a strange way, Natasha missed Jarvis, but she liked Friday, too. Stark needed more strong women in his life. Pepper couldn't do it all alone all the time.

Smiling slightly at the thought, she started her research. It wasn't particularly easy, though she could've done it back at the new headquarters. As explanation she always said she needed Friday's help to locate their two missing persons. As of yet, both Bruce Banner and Bucky Barnes had evaded her searching eyes, but she had time.

With how very good she was at staying alive, time was something she likely had all too much of.

* * *

Despite the music, Natasha heard Tony reach the floor by elevator before Friday announced his presence. After the first time when the computer hadn't and she'd nearly killed him, the three of them had devised a system. If he was headed to his lab and Natasha was there, Friday let him know and the program subsequently announced him in proper heraldic fashion.

"Back again?"

Eyebrow raised slightly, she watched him pull up a stool entirely too close to her for her liking. When he sat there, usual Stark look of expectancy on his features, she replied, "I haven't found them yet. I needed Friday's help."

"You've got an alive Jarvis right on the premises back home."

"That's not home," she answered immediately, not looking away from the files Friday had found for her that she was currently combing through. "Besides, it's weird that he watches me now. I can't come to terms with him having… _eyes_."

Tony snorted into his mug of hot liquid. It smelled like tea of some kind and she noted to herself that Pepper was on a health kick again, at least a 'get Tony to stop drinking so much' kick. After taking a deep draught of it, he sat there in silence aside from the clicking of the keyboard for a few long, glorious minutes. She almost thought he'd leave her be without another word. He had before.

Instead, Tony Stark had to be a surprisingly caring human being as he always was. It was terribly frustrating.

"I talked to him yesterday. He called to check in, let us know he was alright."

Without missing a beat, she asked with an indifference they both knew wasn't real, "Did you trace it or was he being smart?"

"He's always smart, Nat. It's why he's my one true love." Despite her best efforts, she felt a tiny smile make it through at that as Tony's grin spread across his face. While the two of them were more kindred nerd souls than true loves, Tony's teasing was effective in all its blunt force glory. He was just about the only man in the world to turn Bruce Banner red instead of green.

Part of her liked to think that she was the only woman.

"Don't you want to know if he asked about you, is pining for your scintillating presence?"

It was a testament to how far she'd come in her relationship—she supposed he deserved a friendship moniker—with Tony Stark that she allowed him to see her tense, to not force her fingers to keep typing and her shoulders to remain relaxed.

All the joking was out of his tone when he broke the heavy silence she'd let fall, "Why do you keep coming, Romanoff? Why do you come _here_? Why aren't you more pissed that he's playing hard to get?"

Consciously flexing her fingers and keeping her knuckles from going white, Natasha honestly didn't think she'd answer him for the first five minutes that he waited. An aria playing in the background, she finally found herself looking up at him and saying with the most honesty she'd ever given him, "I was pissed, but I understand. Bruce was made to help people, Tony, not level cities. It's hard, having those consequences, that guilt in your head. I get that, so I'll wait. And I come because…"

For a long moment she struggled with how to explain. How she felt was always painfully clear in her own head, but despite her multiple language fluencies, she wasn't sure of the words. "When you were a kid and you still believed in the monsters in your closet and under your bed, didn't you have a place to hide? Under the covers or your parents' room or—"

"The kitchen with Jarvis, the original one. My parents weren't always home. He was."

Looking up at him, Tony Stark fiddling awkwardly with the mug of tea in his hands and avoiding eye contact like a child, she saw the most earnestness on his face she ever had. It looked just as strange as the desolation on hers probably did. She noted quietly in her mind that heartfelt honesty given to Tony was repaid in kind.

"I never had that, Tony. I _was_ the monster under the bed and I let it happen. I did everything that was asked, never questioned more than once, didn't say a word as I became it. I _am_ the monster but being here…" She nearly said being with _him,_ being around his things, but found her throat unpleasantly clogged when she tried, so she moved on before he could hear it. "I don't feel like such a terrible thing here."

Though she'd never known him to be patient in any sense of the word, he just sat there and stared at her for a long time. Finally letting out a deep, rather shaky breath, he waved a hand at the ceiling, "Friday, cut the music, please. Roman… Natasha, I know I'm horrible at feelings and talking about them and everything else, but… I've got multiple PhDs and I'm pretty damn sure that brainwashing five-year-olds into assassins doesn't come with a volunteer option. And monsters don't go around spending their Friday nights combing through monotonous data looking for their friend's lost buddy or a disappearing green giant. The dark shit is part of what made you who you are now, as much as it bites. Now doesn't mean then."

Seeming a bit uncomfortable with his own depth, he quickly added with his usual playful tone, "That's paraphrasing stuff from Pepper, so if it's complete bullshit, take it up with her."

What awkwardness that had started to sprout quickly died as he masterfully shifted back to his usual self. He would've made a terrifying spy had he had a pinch of subtlety. He could change gears quicker than she could sometimes.

Pulling something out from beneath him on the stool, he chucked the green item at her before she could say anything. As she held it in front of her with confusion to see that it was an overly large t-shirt with graphics of the Hulk and the words 'Hulk Smash!' across the chest, he explained with his signature glee, "I know, I know, his merchandise isn't nearly as flattering as my own, but the t-shirts and action figures are one industry I haven't gotten into."

Still grinning like a child, he let that sink in for a few moments as if gauging her reaction. When a small smile she chose not to suppress appeared, he continued with a smirk of his own, "Friday noticed that you never bring pajamas. We've been doing this long enough to consider it a routine, so I figured I'd contribute. I'm Team Banner as opposed to Team Barton because let's face it, anything down that road was to cover his super-secret wife and kids. I'm Team Banner. I'm a fan girl. I admit it. Oh, Pepper and I—and by that, I mean Pepper with my incredibly necessary supervision—are making waffles in the morning if you want to join."

Standing, gently clapping her shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze in a show of comfort that wouldn't embarrass either of them, he made his way to the door. After the elevator dinged open, he called back, "Team Banner!"

A few hours and only one lead on Barnes later, Natasha rose from Bruce's chair and made her way across the space, lights flickering off behind her. The shirt in her hand, she asked, "Friday, could you grab the elevator please."

Two floors up, she made her way through the kitchen and living room that he'd probably never used and stepped into what had been his bedroom. Not bothering to turn on the light, she kicked off her shoes. After only a moment's hesitation, she sat down on the bed and shimmied out of her pants, shirt, and jacket. Letting them rest in a pile on the carpet, she pulled the new shirt over her head.

Lying down, surrounded by the comforting smell of dork, she curled herself into her new green armor that was already doing its part to keep the dream away.

* * *

It was six months before she got a lead on Barnes solid enough to go after.

The interim was filled with Natasha slowly but surely moving into Stark Tower and Casa Verde as tony put it. It began with the three days a week of searching with Friday and the ever more common shopping day with Pepper. It progressed to her trips being the reverse of what they once were. Two, maybe three, days a week were spent upstate putting Cap on his ass and teaching Wanda how to put him and any other man there just in case she ever found herself without her Scarlet Witchcraft.

Missions were occasional, though she went on all of them, doing what she was best at. To her surprise, that everyone seemed to continue to function without her didn't tug at her. Hill and Fury had been working long before her appearance and would continue to do so after she was gone. Steve's new team had their own chemistry that she wasn't needed in, though she could feel that Wanda liked having another girl around. And Cap seemed…genuinely happy for her. While she didn't entirely understand why, he seemed proud of her step back.

She hadn't died of boredom yet, so she just soaked up his happiness and enthusiasm when she was there.

She spent Christmas and birthdays with Clint's family, loving the role of Aunt Nat more than ever, somehow sinking further into it without a constant threat that she would never make it back. It was likely a false sense of security, but it was one she was willing to take until her instincts sent up red flags. Every other week or so, she was babysitting and finding it less terrifying every time.

While still waiting, she was more at peace with her life than she ever had been before. A part of her was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong, for her brain to kick back on and tell her that the monster was why she was valuable and the monster wasn't made to be an over-glorified tech analyst. But the monster stayed hidden.

And then she found Barnes.

The once Winter Soldier was in a far warmer climate, traipsing around South America and single-handedly destroying what heads of Hydra were still alive enough to peek out of the sand. The trail of destruction had taken a little while to turn into a trail instead of just randomly burning fires. When she and Friday had realized it, Natasha had found herself smiling.

Within twelve hours, Steve had a plan, his team, and was climbing into a jet. Following behind him, bag across her back and weapons comfortable where they were hidden on her person, she asked again, "Are you sure about this, Cap? He shot me once. I didn't hit him back, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. I might not be the most calming presence if he's not entirely himself again."

Laughing lightly, he turned around and grabbed her shoulder, smiling the entire time, "Nat, I want you with me on this one. Please, help me get my best friend back. Besides, he tried to kill Sam, too, and he's still coming."

She sighed and rolled her eyes in mock irritation as she climbed into the cockpit, "Fine, if you're going to get all sentimental and adorable on me I don't have much choice. Everybody buckled up back there?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, she sent the jet shooting into the air, Wanda swearing angrily in Russian behind her.

* * *

All things considered, Barnes came easily, though that was perhaps a bad way to phrase it.

After an initial fistfight of unpleasant proportions that had only ended when Wanda held both men apart floating in the air and the rest of them at least slightly incapacitated, there had been more hugging than anything. They'd surrounded him with operatives he'd instinctively knew were capable and could handle themselves. He'd reacted accordingly and fought like hell against all of them until he had a free enough second to see it was his best friend staring back at him with a bloody nose.

In fact, he'd grinned and noted with amusement and disbelief, "You never did learn to run away from a fight, did you?"

Steve had proceeded to call him a jerk which was answered with punk and then the hugging had started.

Though she could still read the tension and unease the instincts made sure he kept, Bucky seemed to have gotten a good hold of himself back. After his initial words and a request to get a ride back to the States, he was mostly quiet but he seemed more than content to just listen to Steve talk. He'd calmed his monster, maybe put it to rest entirely.

Natasha was dozing in the cockpit beside Sam high over Panama when Tony's voice came over the wire.

"Hey guys, you're still down south chasing the one-armed man, right?" Despite the light words, there was panic in Stark's voice that immediately had her and Steve sitting up straighter.

Pushing the button, she replied, "On our way back. Why?"

"I've got a Code Green situation in Honduras. I've had Friday keeping an eye on satellite feeds ever since he left just in case this happened. I just deployed Veronica, but it's going to take me a bit to get there. You're closer. You think you've got a lullaby in you if he gets out of the cage?"

"Always. What do you know?"

Tony snorted, "Not much, but it seems like some local rebel guys thought that taking a pop shot at the awkward American doctor was a good idea. I'm pretty sure they'd dead now."

Flicking off the autopilot and shoving forward on the stick to accelerate the jet, she smirked back, "Good. Have Friday send the coordinates and we'll be there."

"Already done. Give my greetings to the new cyborg."

From where he was leaning over her shoulder, Steve rolled his eyes at the dig, "Dammit, Tony!"

"Language, Cap," he snarked in reply before promptly signing off, likely already in a suit and en route.

Without Tony's banter the jet fell heavily silent and Natasha could feel at least a few pairs of eyes on her, Steve's not least among them. Not letting go of the controls, she stared straight ahead and ignored the feeling.

"Are you okay with this, Nat?"

Snapping back more fiercely than she needed to, she didn't look back at Steve's comment, "I wouldn't have agreed if I wasn't. I've never been accused of being selfless like you. Besides, I'm okay with everything."

Voice still firm, she took some of the edge out of it after feeling him pull back, "When we get there, we're the only two that approach. Everyone else either stays in the jet or clears the area, especially you Wanda. The Big Guy isn't going to be too pleased to see you."

The dark-haired woman nodded in understanding and silence fell once again but for Steve explaining the situation to Barnes until they touched down half an hour later on the outskirts of a small village of cinderblock houses. One of them had a rusty pickup through the roof and two more vehicles were tangled and crushed in the street. People were screaming, but none of them seemed to actually be hurt aside the mangled bodies inside the trucks.

They were definitely in the right place.

Despite the time that had passed, Natasha felt surprisingly calm as she and Steve walked down the ramp to the tropical dirt. If anything she thought the feeling bubbling up in her chest was excitement or anticipation. A strange happiness that she'd never properly put a name on before but belonged specifically to Bruce had come back and settled over her.

Pulling his shield off his back and fitting it to his arm, Steve nodded toward a wide swath of trees that had been flattened, "Everyone else sees to the inhabitants and we follow the yellow brick road?"

"Look at you pulling out the references. Yeah, let's go."

While he relayed orders to the others, she started walking purposely forward. Her pace sped up into a run when she heard a roar she knew all too well. The lack of muffling meant that he'd gotten out of Veronica's holding cell.

Heart pounding despite not having run far enough or fast enough to be out of breath, she found herself standing on the edge of a large, brand new crater before Steve could catch up. Holding out a hand behind her to keep him from coming up beside her, she crouched down to be closer to the growling green being before her.

Smile in her voice, she greeted, "Hey there, Big Guy. The sun's getting real low."

With a roar of surprise, he whirled about to see her there. His enormous chest heaving, she watched the Hulk clench and unclench his fists a few times, caught in the confusion between calm and rage. Bringing out her smile, he stepped closer to her. At the top of the crater, she was nearly eyelevel with him and she could feel his panting breath on her face.

This was generally when she held up her hand and he placed his larger one in hers, but she found herself hesitating despite feeling Steve's eyes on her from behind.

Gracefully folding herself down to sit on her knees and shins, she noted, "It's been a little while, Big Guy. How've you been?"

His green eyes were still confused, but she could see the spark of recognition in them, could just make out some brown leeching into them. Seeming to shrug, he gave an unaggressive grunt. Squinting as if bringing her into better focus without any glasses, he brought up a large finger to point at her left eye where a cut from a punch from Bucky's metal arm had opened up the skin.

"Oh, it's nothing. Stray punches are an occupational hazard. You've had a rougher day than I have. You know, you stood me up last time I saw you. That's hard on a girl's feelings." Making her laugh, his eyes shifted down to his bare feet in a strange juxtaposition of his other self's expression of embarrassment. "It's okay. I understand. You two have to be better friends before throwing me in the mix. So, Honduras. Is it the climate or the bugs that keep pulling you back to the equator? I've always been a girl who appreciated a good winter myself."

In a one-sided conversation that he managed to be a participant in surprisingly well, she continued talking to him about whatever she could think of until she heard Tony descend back to earth somewhere behind her. Smiling sadly, she looked over her shoulder for a second to see him and Cap both staring at her. It was time to let the Big Guy go and get Bruce again.

Turning back to the Big Guy, she pushed herself to her feet and finally held out her hand. The way he looked from it to her face made it seem like he didn't quite want to take it because that meant he'd leave. Extending it further, she smiled, "It's okay, Big Guy. I'll be gone before he comes back, but you both know where to find me."

Giving out something as close to a whine as she'd ever heard before, he laid his green skin against hers. As she brought her hand up and ran her fingers down his wrist, she whispered, "I'll wait. It's his choice, but I'll wait."

She'd turned and started walking back toward the jet as soon as his muscles started to quiver and his knees began to shake. As she passed him, Stark answered her unvoiced question, "I'll take care of him. Make sure he gets to where he wants to go."

With a nod, she made it onto the jet's ramp with Steve following behind in confusion after Stark shooed him away. Just as the others were following suit, she heard Tony shout after her, "Still on Team Banner!"

Laughing and making sure that he couldn't hear it, she sat back down in the pilot's chair and made sure they were airborne before Bruce was capable of doing more than watching them leave. From the look on his face, she could tell that Steve was confused by her actions, but she wasn't to the level of sharing to explain it to him.

She'd spent too much of her life manipulating others into their decisions. It was her job, for a while her purpose in life. This wasn't going to be like that. Bruce wasn't going to be like that, for both his sake and hers. If he came back, it was going to be his choice. She was going to be his choice. And she was going to leave him free to make it, whichever way he went. She'd said her piece. It was on him again.

She landed on the top of Stark Tower without preamble, explaining as she grabbed her things and made her way to the back, "I have a shopping date with Pepper tomorrow. I'll be back next week. Good to meet you again, Barnes."

With a farewell in Russian that had surprise lighting up Bucky's eyes and a warm reply coming from Wanda, she reentered the space with familiarity. While it was true she and Pepper had plans the following day, the woman wasn't getting back from an on-site inspection of some new energy facilities until late that night, so for the time being she was alone. Walking silently across the quiet space, she returned Friday's greeting and grabbed some yogurt from the fridge before getting into Tony's private elevator and going down to her floor.

After putting a butterfly bandage onto her cut, she allowed some of the weariness of twenty hours in a plane, fighting with a proven assassin more lethal than she was, and seeing the Big Guy to seep in. She was a human being. She was allowed to be tired on occasion. That was perhaps the best side-effect of putting the monster away. She, Natasha Romanoff, was allowed to be a human being in her own mind.

Stripping out of her suit and boots, she ate her yogurt before showering two days of sweat and grime off. Pulling on her Tony-given pajamas, she crawled into the bed that had once been his but was now hers. When she flicked the light off, Friday silently put on some classical music as was tradition.

* * *

It wasn't morning yet when the sound of the elevator dinging woke her. Subtly stretching sore muscles and closing her fingers around her knife under the pillow, she stayed where she was.

The footsteps and stride told her that her visitor was neither Pepper nor Tony and that left just about one person. Unless of course Stark Tower had been invaded, but she found that unlikely, though probably easier to handle.

As if knowing she would be in there, he closed the front door quietly and eased the bedroom open with just as much care. Had there been a doubt, the scent of dork—dork that needed to shower, but still dork—answered any questions. Without opening her eyes, she noted to the silence, "I'm a spy. You can't sneak up on me, Bruce."

"It was worth a try, though, I suppose." Embarrassment and nervousness colored his tone and it made her inwardly smile. Before him, she'd never really understood the allure of awkward guys, but on him she found it perfect. Flicking her eyes open and finding his staring back at her, her opinion on that didn't change.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, she pulled her knife out and placed it on the nightstand before turning on the lamp, "For future reference, that generally ends in unpleasant ways."

Sitting there, she'd expected some sort of answer, but he just continued staring at her…or rather the shirt over her chest. Pulling her legs under her, she explained, "Tony gave it to me. Apparently he's rooting for you."

"Good, maybe that means he'll stop flirting with me." The teasing words seemed to just slip out of his mouth and his face went red despite himself, causing her to choke back a laugh.

Standing and walking over to him, she questioned softly into the charged silence that fell, "What are you doing here, Bruce? Are you just here to disappear again?"

Finding her eyes without issue this time, he shook his head with decisiveness she didn't think anyone really gave him credit for, "No. Being a monster all by myself wasn't so easy after having you around, Natasha. You kind of... _linger_. And the Other Guy, he missed you."

Not looking away, he took a step closer to rest his warm hands on her hips, though there was an element of worry in his voice and uncertainty in his touch, "How about you? Do you still adore me?"

Smirking in a way that always threw him a little off-kilter and made her adore him all the more, she rose up onto her toes and answered, "Like I told the Big Guy, it's your choice, but I'll wait until you're done playing hard to get, Banner."

Raising an eyebrow, she stared up at him, fully prepared to wait out his shyness and caught by surprise because of it.

Bringing up one hand to the back of her neck, his mouth was suddenly on hers and was anything but shy. Smiling to herself as she wrapped her arms around his waist and let her eyes close, the warming thought that he'd missed her too filled her chest and made it that much harder to breathe.

Oh yes, she still adored him. Adored him more than any other man, not least of all because of his monster and his dorky ways.

* * *

Nursing sore muscles from either fighting Bucky Barnes or destroying three pickups' worth of Honduran rebels the day before, Bruce and Natasha rode the elevator up to Tony's floor and the kitchen with food early the next morning. Hearing Black Sabbath playing gently from the speakers, the former groaned as he pulled his glasses off with one hand and rubbed his temples with the other, "It's before noon. He's not supposed to be awake yet."

Straightening her pajamas, Natasha shrugged with a yawn, "It's Stark. Without you here to tell him to go to bed, I doubt he's been to sleep."

Snatching his glasses with a grin, she slid them onto her nose and climbed onto one of the stools by Pepper's kitchen island—Tony called it a bar, but everyone knew who would win only twelve percent of that argument.

"Hey, you know I can't see without those."

Smiling wider at the laughter in his tone as he came up behind her, she shot back, "Reading and seeing are two different things, doctor."

Finally having turned around from whatever electronic thing he was tinkering with, Tony looked from one to the other for a few moments before dropping his tools, throwing his hands in the air, and shouting with glee, "TEAM BANNER FOR THE WIN!"

Cutting off the music, Friday interrupted moments after, "Boss, it appears that you've awakened Miss Potts. She is…displeased."

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." As he scurried past them, he clapped his lab partner on the shoulder and said seriously, "All rounds of hide the zucchini are to be played on your floor. Tower rules. You, me, the lab, later. Missed you, buddy."

Letting out an embarrassed sigh, Bruce rubbed the back of his reddening neck and murmured, "Oh, it's good to be home…"

As she reached out and poured herself a cup of coffee, glasses perching precariously on the end of her nose, Natasha couldn't help but agree with a smile entirely too big for her.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, due to popular demand, here's a Bruce's version chapter! It's a little shorter, but that's okay. I wasn't entirely sure how much dialogue to recycle (that can get stale). But here we are! I made a couple of typo-fixes and tweaks to the last one, but nothing major. Thanks so much for all the awesome feedback. I'm so glad you guys liked it. Thanks so much for reading this one, review if the desire takes you, and I hope you enjoy! :D

* * *

Initially, he'd gone back to India. He wasn't entirely sure what it was about it, but he liked the country. All things considered, maybe it was the food that brought him back. A good curry was one of the few joys in life Bruce allowed himself.

He was incredibly good at denying himself most others, something that this disappearing act had made painfully clear.

India had lasted a few months, but he'd found himself moving on. A part of him kept nagging at the back of his mind that he was running from a monster he literally could _never_ get rid of, not hiding for the sake of everyone he loved. But, focusing on the dizzying feeling of being in the middle of Mumbai traffic during rush hour helped drown that out. Keeping busy kept his days a blur and he was thankful for the lack of definition because as more time passed, he couldn't escape the feeling that he'd been wrong.

He called Tony once right before he left, but hearing his best friend's voice hadn't made anything simpler.

After India came Tibet and after that Mongolia—horse milk was _not_ his thing—and then a truly heinous winter in Russia. Only being snowed in in Siberia had kept him from leaving almost immediately. Even though he hardly ever heard her accent, just the fact that the people around him used the same words that she had when she swore was enough.

Those few terrible, frigid months had made it unpleasantly clear that he was running from himself and something that had actually been good instead of undertaking a noble sacrifice to stay out of everyone's lives—internally read as _her_ life—and keep them safe.

No matter the force of that thought, the memory of collapsing an entire building in a city full of innocent people while doing his level best to murder his best friend kept him at a standstill.

Nothing was ever simple anymore. Except for missing her, of course. Regardless of which way his brain was leaning, inherently knowing that he'd rather be with her at that moment in time was as involuntary as breathing.

Dammit, sometimes he really hated his life.

So with an unpleasant green itch in the back of his skull that roared and growled whenever he thought about her, Bruce kept trudging forward, helping people when and where he could. A flu outbreak in Siberia kept him distracted for a while until the spring came and he decided to move south again.

Peru was next and he found himself being pulled around the side streets and dirtiest alleys of Cuzco from one sick person to the next for a few months more. As always, he didn't charge more than what they offered. He made a point of not going to people who could afford anyone else.

Nothing there was any different than the last four places he'd run to. Nothing was any clearer except for maybe his Spanish.

He left the city and turned northward when the stray dog that had basically adopted him was hit by a truck and died. With a roaring green knot heavy in his stomach, he'd gathered his few belongings and left without a word to anyone or anything after he'd seen to his last patient.

He missed telling people things. Even if it was just a single word to Tony or a glance to her, for that little interim he'd had people there with him, _for_ him. It had been wonderful.

Even if he was the one in the club with the biggest dark spot, he'd still had a club. Steve, lost in the wrong century, would stare at him with amazement at his intelligence instead of his little green problem. Thor was always clapping him on the back too hard because it was what the Asgardian did, never thinking twice about the fact the Other Guy had once punched him through the wall of a building. That had become one of his favorite stories to tell, come to think of it. The drunker he was, the thicker the wall became. Barton, being a fellow quiet one, would sometimes find his eyes from across the room and raise an eyebrow in amused annoyance at some spat Tony and Steve were having. And Tony was constantly telling him to say to hell with anything that said otherwise, he was Bruce freaking Banner and he was the Incredible freaking Hulk as if it was something to be proud of instead of terrified.

And then there was _her_. This beautiful, fierce, guarded woman who could put the Other Guy on his ass in the only way anyone had that didn't end in cities crumbling and who smiled at him in a way she didn't at anyone else. She'd had this way of staring straight into him that had made him both uncomfortable and incredibly tranquil at the same time. She'd looked straight at the monster and smiled at him because of it.

That was what he missed most about her presence.

He missed the little smirk she'd give him when she teased him, looking at him as both the Other Guy and the awkward dork of a doctor he was. Even the Other Guy strutted a little bit when she was around.

And for a reason his brain could not puzzle out, she adored _him_.

Even without knowing everything about her past—the snippets she'd chosen to trust him with were convincing enough—he knew that was as close to love as she would ever give aloud. Adore was an incredibly potent word coming from Natasha Romanoff and dammit if everything inside him hadn't absolutely soared at hearing her say it. She'd proceeded to push him off a ledge, but that was insignificant in comparison.

And he'd willingly chosen to disappear from that life, the only one that he'd enjoyed waking up during since he'd gotten the Other Guy. Despite having a doctorate, the green roar in the back of his skull often indicated he was stupid along with puny.

* * *

Honduras hadn't exactly been part of the plan. An actual plan hadn't necessarily been on Bruce's mind either, truth be told. Running had turned into wandering.

At a bus station in the nearest large town, ready to climb onto the next one that came by regardless of where it was going, a teenage girl was at the ticket window, begging to know when the traveling doctor was next due. There hadn't been a second's worth of hesitation before he explained that he was a doctor.

She'd seemed ready to throw her arms around his neck as soon as the badly pronounced words were out of his mouth. Explaining the symptoms of her mother's illness with hand gestures and Spanish so rapid he couldn't make out anything, she led him over to a nearly rusted out pickup and proceeded to drive him forty-five minutes away to a small village up in the foothills.

It was midafternoon by the time he finished looking Mariana's mother over. The woman was starting through menopause of all things while being sick with a nasty fever. After being almost force-feeding him a late lunch as payment, she had gotten ready to take him back to the bus station, residents from a five house radius all thanking him as they walked to the edge of town where Mariana kept the vehicle.

It wasn't until the loud rumbling of multiple large engines filled the space did everyone finally quiet and take a step back from him. More than one of those surrounding him moved to stand in front of him rather than away, however.

Even before the three trucks came over the hill, he could feel the displeased rumblings in the back of his skull. They only got louder as laughing men with assault rifles brought the trucks to squealing stops and a few got out. His vision had gone green and the Other Guy was furiously pounding on the inside of his skull before they actually took a shot at him, forcing him to put his hands on his knees and take deep, even breaths.

Pointy things he'd gotten a hold on a few years before. Life-threatening situations still had him completely helpless, a big, green nerve exposed to the world.

His hands were clenching into fists and he was fighting an impossibly loud battle inside his own head that he knew he would lose once one of the men he assumed were guerilla rebels had taken him by the shoulder and shoved him out of the group with the end of his rifle.

Despite shrieking green rage trying to explode out of him and the suddenly terrifying reality that there wasn't going to be a lullaby for him this time, Bruce held out until laughing men he couldn't actually see anymore put a burst of bullets into the dirt at his feet.

Two of the three trucks and their passengers had been crushed together in a bloody metal tangle and the third thrown into a nearby roof before he got a handle on himself inside the Other Guy's head. When he'd planned it, the shift was easier and he was stuck in the backseat almost immediately, seeing the world through green eyes. When it was like this, he was tossed about the cab for a while until he found his seat.

Roaring loud enough to echo off the hills and forests around them, the Other Guy sent the final rebel standing and shooting at him flying with a simple backhand before falling quiet. Breathing heavily, he looked down at the crowd of screaming civilians that was staring up at him.

Giving another growl, he spun on his heels and started sprinting for the trees, leaving a trail of splintered trunks and branches in his wake. Bruce recognized the sound of Veronica's holding cell zooming down from the sky before the Other Guy did and they were soon trapped behind a wall of metal on all sides.

Just over the Hulk's roaring and frenzied hammering against the metal and ground, he heard Tony's voice, "Hey there, buddy. Having a bad day, I take it. I'm heading your way. Hang in there."

Even if the voice did nothing to calm the Other Guy in the slightest, it made him breathe a sigh of relief.

He had no idea how long it took the Other Guy to break his way out of the cage, his entire world filled with deafening, head-splitting noise from both his escape attempts and the swirling rage that just kept building. The stronger it got, the most swept away in it he became. That was probably what he hated most, aside the ability to thoughtlessly murder every living thing in sight. In the backseat, he had no control over anything and every emotion that ran through the Other Guy's head immediately went into his. If the Other Guy was scared, so was he. If Hulk was angry, rage blinded everything he saw.

It was positively terrifying, no matter how indestructible the Other Guy was.

 _This_ was why he hid. _This_ was why he disappeared.

There was something subtly different about the world, a scent on the wind or a presence in the air, when they broke out of the dark and found themselves standing in the exact center of a crater that hadn't been there before. A roar filled the air for good measure.

Chest heaving as a growl rumbled through him, the Other Guy was ready for whatever tried to kill them next as he scanned the forest around them. He wasn't ready for her.

"Hey there, Big Guy. The sun's getting real low."

Whirling about, they were both suddenly staring up at _her_ , her voice as soothing as it had always been.

Bruce hardly noticed that they stepped forward until they were that much closer and she started smiling that smile. From a chest that wasn't his at the moment, an intoxicating rush of happiness flooded his system and swallowed him whole. It only warmed when she sank down onto her shins and kept talking.

Still filled up with the high of her being there, asking how he'd been, laughing as the Other Guy all but shuffled his feet in embarrassment when she mentioned them standing her up, it almost didn't fully dawn on Bruce that with something other than anger feeding into him, the Other Guy was refusing to let go. After not having seen her for so long, the Hulk was keeping his hold for the sake of being with her.

Both of them too happy and comfortable in her presence again, neither noticed how long they stood there in front of her just listening to her talk.

Even Tony—who the Other Guy had never been terribly fond of without Bruce's frequent nudging—landing in the background didn't tear their concentration away. When she turned back from looking over her shoulder though, the Other Guy could tell that things were about to change.

Letting out a sound that was more of a sad whine than a growl when she got up and held out her hand, he didn't return the gesture for a long moment. Where a second ago happiness had been swirling through him beyond his control, reluctance washed through Bruce's mind. Only her encouragement got him to reach out his arm and place his hand on top of hers.

The last thing either of them properly heard before the body-wide shaking that switched them back began was her whispering. "I'll wait. It's his choice, but I'll wait."

The fact that Natasha Romanoff was waiting for him was the first coherent thought that went through Bruce's mind once the shuddering and quivering muscles stopped. Letting out an exhausted groan, he just stayed face down in the mud until he heard footsteps behind him.

For a split second, he thought it was her, though Tony's voice soon shattered that hope.

"Hey, buddy. How you been?"

Feeling it all the way from his again pink toes, he groaned once more.

* * *

She'd been gone before his legs were in working order and from behind brown eyes he hadn't caught a glimpse of her. Her words echoing in his head, he knew exactly why, too.

The decision was on him.

Sitting and waiting for the nearest Stark quinjet to arrive, he initially only listened to Tony's chatter absently. It wasn't until the man reached out and smacked his shoulder did Bruce actually look up.

Voice surprisingly serious, Tony stated, "She's been looking for you. Ever since you left she's made it her job to track you and Rogers' long lost buddy down. It's kind of what she does now."

Rubbing his temples, he found himself snapping back from exhaustion and confusion, "And your point?"

"My point is I want to know if you're about done running from her, because she's still waiting. Of all the women in the world, do you really want to make her wait?"

"Why, because she can kill me?"

"No, because I think Natasha's waited for something good for long enough." The steel in Stark's voice made him look up with surprise. Though they didn't necessarily dislike each other, he'd never known Tony and Natasha to trust one another either. The force behind those words made him think that something had changed.

Without any help from the Other Guy, he found himself getting angry in response though. Gesturing toward the village behind them, Bruce demanded, "And _that_ is good?! My having to have either her or an enormous Iron Man suit keep me from leveling towns is _good_?!"

Tony rolled his eyes, "Oh stop it, you'd already turned out of town before either of us got here. Sure she helped speed up the process, but you weren't going to be doing anymore rampaging today. And she's got a monster of her own, so it isn't like she doesn't understand. Hers is less green and more spidery."

"Oh, so she'd be with me because my monster makes hers look better? Is that what you're telling me?" He was blowing the entire conversation out of proportion and a part of him knew it, but Bruce wasn't entirely ready to admit that something involving him could be construed as good, not anymore. Any good he managed was in reparation.

At his last words though, Tony looked as if he were on the verge of punching him square in the face and he stilled, some of the selfish anger draining out of him.

Voice low and serious, the other man said quietly, "No, she wants you because you're proof that someone can have a monster and still be a good person. She's been surrounded by monsters since she was a kid and apparently you're the only one so far that gives her a little hope for herself. _That's_ what's good and you both deserve it, Banner. So stop being a stubborn little bitch and deal with the hand you've got."

Grinning suddenly and clapping him on the shoulder as the jet slowly landed behind them, he shrugged mischievously, "That hand involves Natasha Romanoff deciding you being a complete and utter nerd is somehow adorable. If there were ever a time to just roll with it, now is that time, buddy. I do it with Pepper every day. You don't question. You just be grateful."

Anger vanishing completely and leaving him with something stuck between shame and courage, he silently followed Tony into the back of the jet. Once they were airborne and he'd visibly adjusted to being in a hovering metal box, Tony looked over at him expectantly and asked lightly, "Where we going, Banner?"

Leaning his head back and letting out a deep breath, he found himself making the decision she'd given him without any doubts, "Home."

* * *

With the hours of the flight to let Tony's words sink in, Bruce found himself strangely excited when he saw the light of Stark Tower gleaming out of the New York skyline. Going back there wasn't exactly having the conversation with Nat that he needed to, but it was a start.

He was done running. The kneejerk reaction to do it might pop up again, but he wasn't going to fall for it again. Disappearing by himself didn't work anymore, not that it had in the first place. He couldn't leave behind what he'd been trying so hard to get rid of. For all that Tony talked about strutting, he was still more than a bit terrified of the Other Guy. But, as the day had proved, the two of them agreed on at least one thing.

They both liked life better when she was around.

When he and Tony walked through the door of the penthouse, he found himself far more relieved than he would've thought. He was back and it felt wonderful.

Yawning in a way that Bruce didn't entirely believe, his friend noted as he herded him toward the elevator door, "Pepper should be back already. She'll be happy to see you in the morning."

Nodding, Bruce went to reply, but Tony added quickly as the doors were closing between them, "Oh and you might want to be careful down there. Casa Verde has been occupied since you left and Nat sleeps with knives."

What relief was there immediately vanished even as Friday—who had introduced herself during the jet ride—announced when he reached his floor. Without her urging, he wouldn't have remembered to get out of the elevator when its doors slid open before him.

She was there. She was living in his room. She was… _there_.

The awkward dork she always had turning a bright red when she flirted with him overtook his body with horrifying efficiency.

A few of Tony's words playing in his mind—not the part where he called him a stubborn little bitch—he took a deep breath before quietly opening the door. He had to have the conversation at some point. And she'd said herself that she'd wait, that she'd been waiting.

Gently easing the door open and closing it behind him, he set his few belongings on the ground. As if pulled toward the bedroom door by some unseen force, he found himself conflicted as always. This time, he was caught somewhere between nervousness and extreme excitement.

She was right on the other side of the door. And she'd been waiting for him. And he'd _missed_ her. Finally nearly close enough to touch her without green hands, how much he'd missed her crashed down on him with almost physical weight.

Before he realized he'd reached out for it, the doorknob was turned and he was standing in the doorway.

Without opening her eyes or making any visible indications that she knew of his presence, she broke the silence with an element of amusement in her voice, "I'm a spy. You can't sneak up on me, Bruce."

Caught staring at her, her hair even redder against whatever green pajamas she was wearing and her voice as comforting as it had been only hours before, he replied with audible embarrassment and a shy smile, "It was worth a try, though, I suppose."

He felt his smile morph into an open-mouthed expression and his eyes go back to staring when she sat up and turned the light on. In all honesty, he wasn't entirely sure what she said as he saw himself in illustrated form standing there across her chest. For a reason he didn't entirely feel like understanding, seeing her there wearing and sleeping in his t-shirt—the Other Guys' t-shirt—the nervousness disappeared and he felt like doing all the strutting Tony harped on.

"Tony gave it to me. Apparently he's rooting for you."

He replied without thinking, "Good, maybe that means he'll stop flirting with _me_."

Snapping his eyes back up to hers, he felt his face redden from both that and the fact that he'd been shamelessly staring at her chest for at least the last thirty seconds. The laugh she only just managed to swallow made him feel better.

Then she stood up and floated over to him with the lethal grace she always possessed. An electricity that hadn't been there a second before crackled on the air as she looked up at him, "What are you doing here, Bruce? Are you just here to disappear again?"

Even if he'd been confused a few hours before, he wasn't anymore and hearing her ask only made his choice easier to say aloud.

"No. Being a monster all by myself wasn't so easy after having you around, Natasha. You kind of… _linger_. And the Other Guy, he missed you." Stepping closer and gently resting his hands on her hips just in case it was the last chance he got to touch her if she said no, he asked with his uncertainty clear to see, "How about you? Do you still adore me?"

The smirk she sent up at him was _that_ smirk, the one that stabbed straight into him and the Other Guy and let him know she was taking them both, _wanted_ the package deal. Fire immediately lit in his chest and breathing became difficult. As she rose up onto her toes to get closer to him, he suddenly wondered how he'd managed to leave before.

The words 'stupid, puny Bruce' echoed briefly from the back of his mind but were drowned out by hers as she continued to smirk at him, "Like I told the Big Guy, it's your choice, but I'll wait until you're done playing hard to get, Banner."

He was done. He was _very_ done.

He would've said so aloud, but he was surging forward and bringing a hand up to cradle the back of her neck to kiss her before he got the chance. As she wrapped her arms tightly about his waist, he happily settled in to apologize for as long as it took for playing for so long.

* * *

Despite still being tired and incredibly sore, Bruce found it hard not to constantly reach out and touch Nat as they rode the elevator upward toward food the next morning. He was unconsciously resting a hand on her waist or running one down her back and to his incredible surprise, she didn't seem to mind in the slightest. She just smiled contently at him over her still green-clad shoulder.

He wondered if she'd start to once there were other people around. When the elevator doors opened and they both heard Black Sabbath playing—indicating Tony was very much awake—he groaned. He hadn't wanted to find out so early.

The grin she gave him after teasingly replying to his comment about Tony's sleeping made the inconvenience more worth it. Feeling her sneak up and steal his glasses from him, sliding them onto her nose without a thought and smirking back at him as she did, made him momentarily forget Tony lived there at all.

"Hey, you know I can't see without those."

He'd forgotten how easy it was to be happy around her when she was, too. Coming up behind the stool she'd taken refuge on, he settled both arms around her waist. Even with Tony standing there staring at them, she just smiled even more and teased, "Reading and seeing are two different things, doctor."

At that point, feeling so incredibly happy in his own skin while touching hers, he didn't care in the slightest that Tony was still there. There was nothing his best friend could do to embarrass him at that moment.

"TEAM BANNER FOR THE WIN!"

Then again. It couldn't really get worse though, which was comforting...

Friday's voice filled the room. "Boss, it appears that you've awakened Miss Potts. She is...displeased."

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." He was smirking at Tony's well-deserved misfortune when the man stopped, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, "All rounds of hide the zucchini are to be played on your floor. Tower rules. You, me, the lab, later. Missed you, buddy."

...with Tony Stark everything could get worse.

Feeling Nat shaking with silent laughter where he still held her, he let out a sigh, "Oh, it's good to be home..."

And in a way that had his neck turning red with embarrassment and the woman before him grinning at him over her coffee cup, it honestly was.


End file.
